Hush
by Diet Cigarette
Summary: “Draco?” She murmured, her gaze still fixated upon his eyes. “Yes?” He responded.“Are we going to hell?” She wondered, her jaw clenching. A dark Ginny fic, DMGW. PreDH Rated M for sex!
1. Ginevra

Hush

By Diet Cigarette

* * *

His voice was itchy, cracking sporadically as he spoke.

"Why?" The hurt in his eyes shined through, piercing through her core. She didn't reply, she wouldn't. She wasn't truly sure herself.

"I was afraid." She tried to excuse, as she closed her eyes for a time. The mark on her arm didn't sting, but the pressure on her chest was increasing, prickling and burning. She reached out to him, attempting to rub his arm but he recoiled back, avoiding contact all together. He refused to even look up to meet her closed gaze.

"Ginny," Harry uttered, shaking his head in disbelief. "Just.." He was at a loss of words. His scar burned, and complete shock attained his body. "Leave."

"Harry, you have to unders-"

"I said, leave, didn't I?" He gathered his thoughts, inhaling deeply, and turning his back. "Leave, I won't say it again."

She pierced her lips together, her eyes squinting. She wouldn't cry, she could no longer weep after all the pain she was consumed in. The rain outside tapped at the windows, the night sky encasing the home. She wrapped her arms around herself as she glumly stepped to the door.

"I beg your forgiveness." She voiced in a hushed tone, wrapping her skinny fingers around the cold doorknob, and twisting it. The door swung open, the gusting wind whistling as she stepped through the frame. As her body exited the manor, she heard the crashing of glass behind her. He had hurled something against the wall in anger, but she ignored his raged woes and treaded down the path, her black robes ruffling behind her.

* * *

She apparated back to _his_ mansion. She loathed that he had had control over her in her school days, but now, she had come to accept her fate as a murderer. He gave her a home, and he often seemed to embrace her company. She had to appreciate that fact.

However, Ginevra always found herself going back to take shelter under his roof. Maybe it was because she had no where else to turn. Perhaps it was because during the dead of night, she wanted shadows to retreat under. Either way, he granted her that privilege; to run and hide and shield herself from the entire world.

_Harry._

She wanted to desperately to care and to regret her decisions. Ginevra yearned for the large lump in her chest to increase with fear, love, or even hatred, but her emotions seemed to have faded. Numb to the entire situation, she couldn't find it inside herself to care.

She had before concluded that when eventually told him, she would be angry if he refused to accept her, but that was far from factual. Ginevra knew she had no right. She had betrayed him, it was not the other way around.

She began filling the pearly white bathtub with steaming hot water as she sat upon it's edges. The oil lamps burning dully, just giving off enough light for her chestnut eyes to adjust and distinguish shadows from darkness inside the lavatory. The walls of the immense bathroom were colored maroon, the tile an obscure gray. Besides the massive tub located in the rear of the room, there was a small sink and a toilet place at opposite ends.

As the water reached it's limit, she stood, letting the long black robes slight down her creamy arms, revealing her naked body. She stepped in, the calescent fluid adjusting to her entrance. It burned, but her insensitive flaxen skin did not draw back.

Sitting down, the young woman elongated her legs as much as possible, until her toes touched the heated front of the large basin. She laid back, most of her body submerged in the water. Ginevra was not concerned with washing her body at the moment, as of then, she needed to relieve her aching muscles. She needed to relax, if at all possible.

Slowly closing her eyes, she rested. Ginevra's breathing grew rigid as her thoughts moved over to her brother. She hadn't explained to Harry about his death. It was either herself, or Ron.

Poor, dense, small minded Ronald. He had no clue. No one had the slightest idea that their precious Ginny was changing right under their noses. Unbenonced to everyone, even Remus, her ears were being whispered to, suggested to.

It was that diary that got to her first. That beautiful, understanding, diary. It suggested, and she obeyed. Of course, she had a choice then. She could've refused to comply, but why would she defy the book, when it was the only sympathetic character in her life.

At the end of sixth year, she then turned to Draco, who had later brought her to the source of the diary itself. Oh, yes, once she laid sight upon the Dark Lord, she was immediately cast down to her knees in astonishment. His aura was overwhelmingly powerful. He was frightening, yet more so, beckoning.

In a series of events, she was baited. The once strength and ferocity that Ginny once had, was harnessed and put to great use as Ginevra was born. Reborn, to put it more correctly. Her exact birth date was now only a few weeks old, so young, and yet so dangerously lethal.

But Ron, he was so trusting; so gullible. She had almost forgotten the expression upon his face until she was reminded so by Harry earlier that evening. With a sigh, her memories recalled his petrified gaze, staring at her in all amazement of her deceit. He said not a word to her in his last moments.

There was no use as she sent a green flash a light hurling towards him. As he lay frigid, and increasingly growing cold, she took sight upon his face; one of absolute terror and pain.

The atmosphere in the room changed, she assumed he had entered.

"May I help you?" She questioned, her eyes still tied shut. There was no reply, but the force was still moving forward, as if a lion upon prey. Nay, a snake. She made no attempt to cover her revealed body, instead, she concentrated upon his location, which, was hard to distinguish as he slithered closer and closer so gracefully.

The water was played with, fingers gently filtering through it.

"You're going to burn yourself." A male voice commented in a hushed tone. It was quite close.

"I'm fine, Draco." She corrected, at last fluttering her lids unsealed. He did not reply, just sat at her side, gazing down to his reflection in the water. She was impressed that he was not inspecting her body, though she laid out provocatively. She looked to his bleached hair as it dangled in front of his eyes.

It was cut chin length, and thinning with apparent stress. She could clearly make out his beautifully poisonous gray eyes. The same eyes that always held her attention, and made her beg for more entrance into his thoughts.

She watched as he started to create movement. He lifted up his left arm, and pulled up his black robes from his limb, revealing the same tattoo they both shared. It hadn't faded since he had received it. Bewitching. The inked skull with a serpent entangled through the rotted out openings.

His other, untouched arm dipped into the scalding water. He, too, seemed unaware of it's smoldering temperature. Draco grabbed a hold of her marked arm, and pulled it from the liquid, holding it with delicacy. Ginevra made no attempt to withdraw from his manipulation, she only lay still and allowed him to work.

He turned over her now flushed and scarlet arm. She was scarred with the same autograph. A beastly and corrupt smirk appeared upon his lips. He placed their tattoos over one another, sensually allowing them to collide.

She had no accurate explanation for his actions, but she still chose not to resist. He was not hurting her, and to pull back would waste energy she was not equipped with.

"Draco?" She murmured, her gaze still fixated upon his eyes.

He looked up whilst their fore-arms still laid touching.

"Yes?" He responded.

"Are we going to hell?" She wondered, her jaw clenching. She knew his answer, but she still wished it were different.

"Yes." He causally informed her, without hesitation. It seemed he had already realized this fact and had grown to accept it. She nodded, not conflicting with his remark.

"and are we mad?" She expressed her thoughts once more.

"Perhaps." He simply replied. She had contemplated the possibility of a mental disorder one too many times, but she decided not to blame her choices upon madness. She was sure it was her will that had placed her into her own, cold, existence as Ginevra. She just needed Draco to confirm her theory. He hadn't.

She slide away from his touch, recoiling back and pulling herself up, and standing to her feet. She was dripping droplets of water and her usually fair skin flushed from the heat. Her was fiery red hair untouched and dry with the exception of the ends which had been submerged.

Draco then turned and looked at her, admiring her curves as she swung her legs over the fiberglass barrier, and treading into her quarters. He watched her exit, but said not a word.

"Will you lay with me tonight?" He heard her call from the other room. He raised in eyebrow in suspicion, and followed her, dark shadows cast upon his features.

"What are you getting at, Weasley?" His normal, cocky attitude returning to his persona.

"Sleep in my bed tonight. I don't want to be alone." She explained, wrapping a black silk robe that she had retrieved from the closet around her freshly renewed self.

He nodded in accordance after a moment, leaning against the doorway, watching her tie the matching sleek band around her waist. Ginevra sighed, ignoring the mirror held before her. She would not waste her time on how she viewed herself.

She paced to the extensive Victorian window, peering to the outside grounds. It was barely visible through the thick rain and fog, but she could identify the tree tops, and large iron gates surrounding the manor. Inhaling deeply, she turned around to face him.

He was still in his same position in the aperture. He held not a smirk, nor a smile. His lips were at a stand still, firmly straight and emotionless. Her visual was just the same, as she made her way toward the expensively decorated mattress. Pillows and shams of pale blue covered the thick comforter, she bothered not to move them, and just pulled the quilt from under them.

"Come." She commanded, seating herself down, and throwing her legs up in succession. She propped her back up against the stuffed cases, waiting for him to join her for a night of tranquility. He stood still.

"You told Potter?" He questioned, folding his arms, and leaning his head against the frame. She casted her glimpse over toward him, examining his appearance throughly. She could not tell if this was a positive or negative. Though she was curious to whether she would be punished for mentioning her membership, she figured Draco would not tell anyone. He had no one to tell now that he shared a forty room home to only the two of them.

"Yes." She responded truthfully. He picked himself up, advancing to the middle of the room. He removed his shirt, throwing it to the side, and revealing his livid chest. His hair grew messy as the clothing was tossed over his head. Draco didn't seemed to mind as he carried forward in unbuttoning his pants.

She watched his inquisitively, her eyes running over his anatomy. Strong arms, thick muscles; She had to admit, she wouldn't mind having him as her own, but now was not the time to think of such physical things.

_But in an emotionless world, what is there but the physical? _

"He'll never forgive you, you're aware of that, right?" He questioned her. She ignored him though, more concerned in her thoughts. Oh, how she detested the naughty little voices in the back of her head.. Those voices were the exact reason she was in this predicament. The logical front seemed to never victor.

Draco was left in his boxers, as he approached her. He climbed next to Ginevra, following her suit as he covered himself with the covers. Her guise never altering once. As he yawned extensively, she couldn't help but notice he turned to the opposite direction, staring to the wall.

Something inside her wanted him to slumber facing her. Something stirring wanted him to want her. She ignored those naive emotions, and starred up, gazing toward the ceiling in unconscious interest. After a few odd moments, both their thoughts drifted into a dreamless coma.

* * *

Copyright J.K Rowling's characters and such.

_I'm not sure if this'll be a one-shot, or if I should add a few chapters. Please do tell me your opinion on this decision. _


	2. Caress

_Hush_

**By Diet Cigarette**

* * *

"CRUCIO!" The words around her were blurs as faceless, innocent people scrambled around her for their lives. With all honestly, she could not help but admit that she was all but disappointed to hear their anguished screams for mercy. She would not stop, would not hold back her power for anything but their pleads for death. She urned for their pain to become so massively extensive that they would consider taking their own lives that very moment instead of being placed into another hellatious curse by the young red head.

"Draco," Her voice drawled, her chestnut eyes scanning the decaying warehouse. Mold and bacteria filled masked the aroma, disgusting her as it filled her nostrils without charity. She clacked her tongue when there was no answer, and returned her heed towards the injured muggle

"Expelliarmus!" A masculine voice boomed from behind her petite body, in which caused her to spin around upon her heel. As she did so, her thin piece of dark wood swiftly slid from her hand, and flew itself into the air, in which it immediately fell to the dirt floor once more, only a good ways away.

Whilst she imagined the helpless muggle crawling his away to salvation, she was forced to set her sights upon a former acquaintance.

"Oh, _Mad Eye_," Her voice drew out his name, and a devious smirk appeared upon her features as her darkly lit eyes starred down to stumpy man with one large, budging eye. His scarred face seemed unusually chipper. She assumed he was in quite the good mood to have finally laid eyes upon the stealthy young woman.

"Ms. Weasley," He replied simply, almost casually. His tone had made it feel as if they were old mates from the past, who had shared much together. Alas, it was not, but he made her feel something she hadn't in awhile. A sense of Ginny. One side of her lip lifted in disgust as he directed the tip of his wand towards her chest, threateningly.

Searching in her peripheral vision, she caught sight of her wand to her right, what seemed miles away. She expected him to use patience with her; waiting for a flawless moment that would allow him to unexpectedly stun her.

"You can not surprise me, Moody," She warned him, backing up a few steps as they anticipated the near future.

"No," Hi lips curled into a sickly smile, "But I can wear you down in the meanwhile," With that said, he flung his arm out in a brutal motion, shouting the words, "ABIECTIO!"

Immediately Ginevra was thrusted into the air; her petite yet powerful body being slammed into the damp brick wall to her left. A disturbing thud was heard as her internals slammed together. The concrete sections went unmoved, whilst Ginevra, slid to the pavement in agony. Scarcely unfastening her eyelids, she was only able to peek upon the area surrounding her body. The flavor of her own hot blood flooded her mouth as she realized her nose was now bleeding and freely flowing down her face.

Moaning, she strenuously lifted herself upon her elbow to lean. Moody made not a sound. Maybe the feeble old man had actually had it in himself to catch her off her guard. She had to admit she had not anticipated to be in this position only a few moments ago. Her back was throbbing from where she had been crushed between a rigid wall, and a unseen force.

With every ounce of energy within her body, Ginevra lifted herself to her knees; then to her feet. Scanning the darkness she spotted the ancient grouch once more. Mentally, she calculated the location of her wand, the time span between retrieving it, and being marked unconscious by a damning spell. Not for a moment was she curious the whereabouts of Draco Malfoy.

She understood he was a death eater, and more than likely he was intently watching her suffer from an unknown place of audience.

"It's useless, girl," Moody's voice boomed in her head as a tormenting pain entered the very back of her skull.

"Bugger off," She muttered, giving no sign of her internal, physical pain, as she marched towards her awaiting wand of dark pigment.

"Abscido!" His voice echoed, though not as audible as the first spell he cast upon her. Her ears caught notice of a disturbing ripping sound, followed by immense pain in her legs. She fell forward, catching herself upon her hands.

She growled in frustration, crushing her tongue between her teeth as she fought to not scream. Ginevra dared not to look at what he had done, she feared the worst and kept upon her mission to fetch her only power source. Her appendages prickled with an incredible stinging innervation.

Stancing upon her hands and knees, she became crawling onward. "Accio wand," She hissed, holding out her hand. She had once recalled Harry doing such with his wand; calling out commands without embracing it inside his palm.

It worked to no avail as her magical contraption lay steady upon broken rock and filth. Moody continued to tease the woman as he allowed her to advance only so close to her objective, until he send charms her way to downgrade her gained advantage.

"STUPEFY!" His words screeched gruffly in her mind, her eyes squinting in irritation. She watched as the red light came flashing towards her such as an electric current. With eyes locked upon her hunter, and suddenly, before the very spell would cease her awareness, she tilted her head to the right, so that the stream of color would pass by, just mere inches from her head.

Though no matter the pain she felt at that moment, a bloody smirk appeared on her face as she dove for her wand, causing Moody to go wide eyed and send another stunning spell angled upon her mangled and sprawled body.

"AEGIS!" Her crackling tone screamed into the atmosphere after she snatched it from the soiled earth, trusting her wooded staff into the air. A thick navy glow emerged from her wand, surrounding Ginevra completely and acting as a shield. The protection of the glowing wall was smacked with the stunning spell, but it seemed to reflect it, sending it in the opposite direction, heading right towards Moody.

His pork body some how dodged the sending spell. It flew past him with incredible speed, and she furrowed her eyebrows in disappointment.

"So ya decided ya ain't goin' quietly," He sounded.

"I'm not going at all," She replied to him as they stationed themselves yards from each other. His rotating eye rolled around as if it was inspecting the malodorous dome for something that would serve as his leverage.

"We'll see, Ms. Weasley,"

"We'll see, Mad Eye," She mocked him, throwing out her wand in front of her and shouting, "Incarcerous!" A spell she had been taught as a Death Eater. It flew like lightning as it raced towards Moody; his glass eye still wiggling in his head.

"PROTEGO!" Was his reply, and the light that was once hurling his way disappeared as if it was never there. They battled on, both gaining no advantage. Ginevra often mentally compared this ongoing war to a balancing act. It was unclear who would gain the advantage, or how. She was sure, however, that she had had enough of this parading around, she wanted to end this, it was getting old and not as interesting as it once had been.

"Serpensortia!" She cried, on the offense once more. A large brown snake with a flickering tongue emerged from her wand, hissing threateningly as it advanced toward her opponent. Moody raised an eyebrow, unamused by the red head's spell. He let a small umph, and his wiggling eye rolled, signing his unimpressment.

"Diffindo!" Ginevra roared as he was distracted by vanishing the serpent. She watched, enthralled, as the spell his shin directly. His decrepit body could not maneuver as quickly as he imagined. With a sickly ripping sonacy, she gazed down upon where the spell had stricken. With ease, it had sliced through his foreleg, amputating it from his body. He tumbled to his side, dropping to the earth. Blood rushed free from his stub, flowing out and upon the soil, creating a morbid clay.

She took this moment to examine her own legs, and what the retired auror had previously caused. They were simply slashed down to front, nothing more and nothing less. Dirty stuck to her skin as the dried fluid took a ruby coloring. Looking up, she grinned as Alastor began to mend his own limb.

"Incendio-atquialius!" Her voice howled, sending another curse. It hit right on target as she gained the final advantage. Now scarlet colored lips curled ear to ear with joy. Her favorite curse. A spark emitted his body, and grew as it engulfed him in flames. His yelps and cries of distress unphased her as she kept her glaze locked upon the deteriorating man. The once moldy fragrance that was held in the air was now overlapped by the aroma of burning flesh.

"Bravo, Weasley," A familiar voice drew out from the darkness. "Lovely show, a little gory, I might add."

"Glad I could entertain you, Draco," She replied, turning to face the man she was one muggle hunting with. He stood in the shadows; darkness casting down clouded features upon his face. Gray eyes starred into her hauntingly, with locks of his pallid hair casting down into his face.

Watching him expressionless, he advanced toward her, every step without sound. Within a matter of moments, they stood facing towards one another, their eyes locked in a numb bind. He lifted his palm up to her chin, gently pressing his thumb upon her busted lip. Pulling back, he examined the blood upon his finger in silence.

Draco pulled out his wand, bringing it toward her jaw. He was in the midst of muttering a incantation, but he was interrupted,

"Don't," Ginny stopped him; looking down, she could barely see this ebony wand pointed at her chin. He raised an eyebrow in question, but remained without words as he brought his wand back down to his side.

"Have it your way," He shrugged, letting his eyes roam down her neck to inspect the rest of her wounds, though he could not resist the temptation to have thoughts of his own.

"I'll do it," She demanded, her grip upon her wand tightening. With a swift wave, and a small mutter, her once open wounds sealed shut with all that remain was the red stains sprawled about her skin.

"Total heal?" He inquired, in which she nodded.

* * *

Ginevra stood in front of her full length reflection, glazing intently upon where her open wounds had once took refuge. Water droplets slid down her frail body as she sponged down her burgundy smudges of a mixture of her own liquid and soil which created a sticky substance.

Running the beige loofah over her delicate skin, she gently scrubbed her exposed body clear. The water she used, in a pale to the right, was chill, causing little bumps to appear over her arms as she shook the small electric surges that traced down her spin. Every movement then felt amazingly sensitive as she ran her fingers over the tiny shivers.

The early morning light shown in from the dark curtains, barely creating illumination into the gloomful space she took refuge in. She bent her neck to glance downward, her sight resting upon the darkened area upon her forearm.

The shadowed skull, the slithering fiend that entangled itself within. The art seemed to stare back at her, taunting her and almost reminding her that this was her chosen life.. She had no regrets, none at all. Ginevra, in all honestly, knew if she was to take the righteous path, she would be fake.

Something internal, in her core, made her believe she was malicious. It burned within, giving her little ideas, she knew if she had shared, would be frowned, even disgusted, or concerned upon. It began clear throughout her existance that she was meant for life as a follower of Voldemort, himself. Afraid to admit it or not, she got pleasure to see other's in pain. Tears made her smile, screams made her crave to see more. It scared her at first, but soon after sixth year, she learned to embrace her gift of cruelty.

She refused to shower for a week over her fifth year due to the fact that whenever she went to shave, she had horrific images of her biting down upon the sharp metal; slicing her tongue and ripping at her gums. Ginny knew, she absolutely knew that she would never do such harmful deed upon herself, but over the matter of a few weeks, more images followed. More images, she soon found, that she enjoyed.

"Conceited?" She detected a voice through all the cloud cover of her thoughts. Breaking from her daze, she now comprehended that she must have been stuck gaping upon her reflection in the midst of all her brain activity.

"What do you mean, Ferret?" She snapped, watching the tall blond man approach through the mirror. His aspect was almost as sinful as it was wicked.

"You've been staring at yourself for the last few minutes," He observed, raising his eyebrows as he brushed a lock of his own white hair away from his delicate gray eyes. She said nothing, as he continuously advanced, making his way behind her. Draco snaked his arms around her waist, pressing himself dangerously against her and resting his chin upon her shoulder to gaze upon them both through the glass.

Closing her eyes, she felt his blazing breath against her neck, and intently felt the location of his arms around her bare midriff.

"Let me assist you," He offered, sliding the sudsy puff from her enclosed palm, and bringing it to her chest. She locked her awareness upon the contact of the rough texture. It slid upon her body, upward at first as it caressed her shoulders, wiping away her worked grime and filth.

The pressure was light, gently pressing against her sensitive skin, at this point, she took notice of his intoxicating scent. It was indescribable, a cologned aroma that sent weakness to her knees. Memories flashed through her train of thought, of Harry, of how he always smelt like a rough game of quidditch. With a small inhale, she brushed the ideas away. She refused to think of Harry at this moment. She refused to miss him.

From her chest, he drew it between her breasts, delaying his motion so that she felt a tightening below. With a slight gasp of surprise, she took her lip between her teeth and nibbled down to keep from begging him to not stop. Draco traced down her stomach, resting over her button for a mere moment, until cascading it down her waist, letting bubbles rise and slid down her body with every movement.

A nagging thought occurred where she knew she should stop him. This was Draco, to be exact. As a contradiction, something encouraged her to let him continue all the same.

"Relax," She heard his voice softly remind her in her ear. "You're tense.." He pressed his lips against her warm, pale skin and nuzzled her softly with what almost appeared as affection.

Nuzzling transformed into tracing small kisses down her neck. He brushed his lips down her shoulders, pulling her satin like hair to one side so that he made have a better angle.

"Draco," She gasped, almost to remind herself who was manipulating her in such way. Without her notice, he smirked roguishly, bringing his lips back up to the location of her ear.

"Mm?" He sounded, removing the sponge from her body and tossing it back into the pale in which it came. With an unbearable smoothness, he let his hands slide over her curves, drifting over her pelvis and up her stomach until he removed himself entirely. Her eyelids fluttered upon, realizing the absence of his touch. Looking to the mirror, she could only catch a glimpse of her fellow worker swiftly exiting the room.

* * *

Copyright JK Rowling, characters, and items.


	3. Longbottom

**Hush**

_By Diet Cigarette_

* * *

The inked signature which lay permanently imbedded in her forearm burned with an incredibly furious pain. To even set eyes upon the tattoo sent quivers of agony through Ginevra's being. She knew she could not avoid him any longer, and in fact, to ignore his demands of her presence would surely enough be suicide upon it's own.

With a deep inhale, she slipped her hoary skull cover atop her eyes, which gleamed dully in the oil lamp's glow. Swiping her wand throw the air in an upward gesture, a crack sounded. She had disappeared.

With a swift step forward, she arrived upon an old rigid cabin in which her master awaited. He had taken refuge in these parts for the mean while, at least for the short period in which it took him to conceive a plan of attack. A year after Dumbledore had fallen at Severus's hand, Harry close to destroying the Dark Lord, but, He, himself, would have a say in it. No matter the consequences, eve at the lives of his followers.

Ginny was so hopeful; a girl with such optimism. It was almost a shame to see her go. Ginevra, however, knew, good would not conquer. They had once, and they may possibly again, but with magic, there are endless possibilities to see that Voldemort would live to see the Earth's death. And in these circumstances, it was best that she assured her place beside the man, that she believed, would soon have impeccable power over the Magical world.

Draco had once told her- Draco. Her second thoughts interrupted the first. She had not put much thought into that certain young man but she could not entirely apprehend his behavior. The night before, he touched her in a way she could have never imagined him doing such things. In fact, the thought of him even conceiving thoughts of Ginevra in a sexual way were ones the laugh upon.

Knocking upon the decrepit and molded door, it was soon answered by a familiar face. An aging man opened the door just slightly, leaving a few inches for his face to fit through. He was tall, and built, towering over her petite frame. A goatee covered his jaw, with noticeable gray hairs prickling at the ends. Dark hair messily covered his hair, ending upon the nap of his neck; He grinned, his yellow tinted teeth upon display.

"Just let me in, Avery," Her words were icy, and it was clear she was uninterested in any games he had in mind.

"Ah, but Miss Weasley," His gruff voice drawled slightly. She cut him off, avoiding any more interferences.

"I'm going to be late," She growled, her eyebrows furrowing in anger, "And to be perfectly honest, I'm not in the bloody mood for a Cruciatus." His eyebrows raised in unimpressment, his eyes dropping with boredom.

"And?" He dispassionately inquired.

"Bombarda!" She cracked, taking witness to the door ahead bursting through. It took flight, hurling backwards and knocking the older man back with it until he collided with the floor. The wooden plank fragmented the wall just a few yards forward. She was regretful to use such forceful measures, but Avery had always caused her havoc during such meetings. He had never favored her assistance to Voldemort, nor did she to him.

She strolled past the doorway, and made her way towards the basement steps in which she had visited only three weeks before.

The area below was sunless and somber. Her eyes were forced to strain in order to find every approaching step. From above, she could faintly hear the exasperated grunts of her rival, Avery. He was quickly placed out of her mind, and she continued her pace until finally arriving upon the chilled and foul concrete floor of the cellar.

The surplus death eaters were huddled in a circle around the Dark Lord, himself. Shadowed cloaks hung their head low as his slithering voice threatened and schemed, pointing and prodding at his advocates in order to get their up most consideration.

With one seemingly step, his head sprung up to attention, his eyes staring her down menacingly whilst she came forth.

"My lord," She greeted, bowing her head as she fell into line. She dared not look up, to meet his hateful glare.

"Ginevra," He hissed. She could see the bottom of his ebony robes advancing toward her placement.

"Yes, my lord?" She inquired, a hint of fear not even pinching her chords as she stood rigidly, awaiting her fait.

"How amazing for you to join us. We were just speaking of you, weren't we?" He turned his head to face the circle of around 20 men and woman. Ginevra assumed all the death eaters had not been summoned tonight, only a selected few.

Ginevra remained silent, without a word emitting her stiff lips. She unconsciously prepared to be cursed in the next few seconds by clenching her jaw, and tightening her hands into fists. When she did not receive impact, she lifted her head just slightly to watch his actions.

"I've been informed that your precious lover, Potter," His words stung at her insides as she fought to remain without expression, "Has found the last one of my, pieces.. You are aware that he's soon to destroy the last of them, aren't you? Luckily, you see, he is very cautious on going about this, he wouldn't kill his own friend immediately, would he? Well, my dear," He spoke swiftly as he strolled forward, standing only inches from her position.

"Yes, M'lord?" She wondered, as he placed his pale white finger tops below her chin, lifting so that she was forced to look into his eyes from behind the mask she wore. Using his other and free hand, he motions it slowly near her cheek, causing her uniform cover to disappear in a matter of thin, glossy smoke.

He seemed to ignore her question for further information, as he lifted his head up to the ceiling and crackled maliciously. "I remember it so clearly," He raised his hand to place his index finger below her chin, lifting slightly so that she was forced to look into his red and hollow eyes that reminded her so much of simply colored holes inside his skull.

"I can see it all so clearly, you see, Ginevra, like your disgusting parents, the Longbottoms were of pure blood yet, of unhonorable views of the wizarding world." A spark of sick amusement twinkled in his expression as he continued on, "Before Potter exiled me into my own hell for a little over a decade, I had other suspects, other children that could possible be the cause of my demise. The one you know as Neville, yes?" He inquired, and she nodded in agreement.

"I know of him," She replied shortly, the subject growing more touchy. She loathed the subject of her past being brought up. She despised anything to do with her time at Hogwarts and Ginny.

"It was magical to just see the look of pain upon his ol'folks faces," She heard a comment come from behind her Master, she suspected it had came from the aging Bellatrix.

He nodded, a lipless smile curving upon his features, "Tortured, they were, to an insane degree," Ginevra believed he thought he was speaking humorously, but she had to silently disagree. "But that's beside the point, as my dearest Bella and her husband, Rodolphus kept his despicable little mum and dad busy, I had my chance, my chance to take the boys life, unfortunately, some ancient fool decided otherwise, charging in with a gruff and pointing his splintering wand at me. At me," He emphasized,

"I had no choice but to kill him on the spot, but the boy, oh, that fat sobbing mess, I spared him for the pure sake of using him. A baby, a baby does not have memory, my dear, a baby would never remember some incredible man bestowing such an amazing honor upon him, would he?" He stopped, his pallid face sliding forward. With their cheeks brushing against each other, he brought his lips to her ear, and a soft whisper could be heard,

"Neville has part of my soul, I want him here. Get him from Potter,"

"Master," Ginevra at last had her chance to speak, as he pulled away to furrow his eyebrows upon her upcoming opinion. "How am I to get close when Potter knows you are so dear to me?" She was careful with her words, making sure that he was complimented in every sentence she spoke.

A cliché Slytherin smirk appeared upon his face, his haunting eyes filled with laughter. "I don't care, just do it,"

* * *

She growled in frustration, stalking upon the iron winding staircase that was located in the center of the parlor.

"And just how am I expected to get back into Harry's lap?" She questioned mostly herself, but with the change in motion in her consciousness, she was well aware of Draco's presence.

"Propose a dirty weekend?" His gruff voice spoke with a tint of malicious humor as he casually strolled in from the depths of the fireplace in which they flooed. Gracefully sitting down, his pale indigo eyes stalked her as she stood in the corner with one hand upon her hip, the other whipping her nervous forehead.

"Fuck you,"

"You're still in love with him, aren't you?" He chuckled, a small grin appearing with his laughter. She angrily furrowed her eyebrows, looking away so that he may not have access to gaze upon her emotional expressions. With that, he stopped and pierced his lips, watching her intently, a more serious tone attaching itself to his voice, "Listen, Weasley, whether you like it or not, you're not Ginny anymore. You gave that little filth of an identity up. Now, leave it to rot. Harry doesn't love you as Ginevra, get over it. Get over it or he'll kill you, forgive me for being honest,"

His advice stung her internally, but he was right. Tonight Ginny had appeared in her emotions, something that she had worked so entirely hard from happening. It was time to start taking control of her body, life, and feelings now. Once and for all.

* * *

**I hate to end it here, but the fourth chapter will be out in a bit to explain further. Oh! And next will have Draco and Gin fluff, well, as fluffy as evil can get, am I right:D**


	4. Delicious

**Hush**

**_By Diet Cigarette_**

* * *

"Why do you need to get close to Harry again, anyway? Why not just go for Longbottom?" Draco questioned as he took a seat upon the cushiony sofa, located in the second floor parlor. It was a lovely room, filled with neutral colors and fabrics of great expensive. Large, it housed two couches, facing one another, a few tables and stools off to the corners, and a massive book case leaned against the western wall.

"Harry's has Neville under his protection," She answered him, as she suddenly became quite aware of her usage of their first names, whilst Draco did not.

"Don't expect the 'I've gone good!' shit to work this time around, Snape already ruined that one," He furrowed his eyebrows at the mere mental thought of Severus Snape.

"He was a pitiful excuse for a death eater, Draco. He really was good, don't you recall?" She corrected him. "But I wouldn't be to quick to spat at his name, he did save your arse in your sixth year,"

"The Dark Lord would've given me a second chance,"

"But Dumbledore wouldn't of if he had lived, and you can't be to sure of that. Voldemort is unpredictable, you should know that by now."

"Yes, but don't you believe that they won't be so keen on allowing you back into their clique? You bloody murdered your own brother; are you dense?" Ginevra brought her index and middle finger to her lips, almost as if she had forgotten her initiation to the deadly group. It was plainly obvious he was changing the subject, but the argument was insignificant, and rather, this matter was far more important.

Death Eaters were more or less similar to any other muggle gang at that era. They had a leader, and the rules were, most likely than not, the same. One trait that seemed to be a habit in gangs was the deed that must be done to become a member. Murder.

It demonstrated loyalty, and ambition, as well as dedication to the tasks that would need to be performed in the future.

"I reckon you're right," She admitted, piercing her lips together in a slightly discouraging motion. Strolling forward, she plopped herself down upon the opposite sofa, so that she was facing Draco,. She sunk down, the down filling propping her up most comfortably.

"Disguise yourself, hell, I don't care, just don't mess this one up," He told her, entwining his fingers as he leaned forward so that his elbows were propped upon his knees.

She artificially grinned, her nose scrunching up with amusement. "Aw, will widdle Dracey Wakey miss me if I'm avada'ed?" She cooed, pretending to pinch at his cheeks, as an adult would a child. She seemed dully unconcerned with the future threat of death.

"Bloody hell, no, I'll finally have some peace and quiet 'round here," Draco commented, plainly attempting to sound serious though something in his tone gave away his intentions of playfulness in which Ginevra hadn't sighted in quite a long while.

Deviously, she cocked at eyebrow, "Oh, so you don't like noisy girls, I reckon?" Ginevra questioned, trying to hide the smile that was forcing itself to appear.

He smirked, stalling for time to form a comeback, "Unfortunately-"

She cut Draco off, a expression of enjoyment grazing her features, as it rarely did when she emerged from her shell in which she hid from the rest of the world since her fifth year in Hogwarts.

"What? Unfortunately you'll never know if I'm noisy?"

"I never said that," He corrected her, sitting up and straightening his posture.

"Oh, so you're suggesting that you know?"

"Oh, Weasley, I hear you, at night, in your room, all alone," He smirked, his misty gray eyes locking with her's momentarily. "Oh, oh Draco, harder," He mocked a feminine voice, taking his hand to his forehead in a dramatic gesture.

"Dreaming of you, my love," She sarcastically replied, and though he was aware of her joke, he took her seriously.

"I'm assuming you want the real thing?"

"Why do you think I dream of it?" At this point, they had both leaned forward, a devilish gaze in both their hollow pupils.

"Come and get it," He dared, the side of his lip raising just slightly in a sort of snarl. Though she should of took into thought what she was about to did, she in all honesty, believed it a waste of time. In a swift moment, she pressed her hand against his chest, pushing him backwards. She moved with him, the surprise in his expression was absolutely decadent when she pressed her chest against his own, the lips mere spaces apart.

Ginevra could feel his steamy breath against her rosy cheeks, sending a small tinge of chills down her spin. She bit down upon her lip, as she looked for a reaction in his expression. Draco raised his eyebrows in surprise, but nothing suggested he was disappointed as his rough hands snaked their way around her waist, drawing her closer so that she was forced to kneel, one leg to his left, the other to his right.

"Never could turn down a dare?" He questioned her, as she lowered her eyes to stare down upon his pale pink lips. She could feel herself trembling slightly under his grip, and she wiggled slightly to test her limits; if she could easily free herself.

"Don't act as if you know me," She told him, her gaze still held down upon his mouth. She could only guess how they would taste against her own, how easily they would move together.

"I know you better than anyone, even you can't admit that I don't," He said in a hushed, rough voice. She yearned to press against his body, kiss him with intensity, but something in the back of her mind held her back. That nagging little thought grew until she was mentally kicking herself for having such sexual thoughts of her roommate.

A battle raged through her thoughts, but she remained in his grasp.

"Like right now, I know you're practically melting at my touch," He smirked, bringing one of his hands to softly cup her cheek, and lifting up so that she was forced to tear her gaze from his lips to his eyes.

"Just like I know you're growing ever more excited beneath me?" She questioned him, playing his game and attempting to get the ball back in her court.

"You wanted to real thing," Draco reminded her, his fingers tracing her jaw line with exceptional ease.

"I was joking,"

"No, you weren't," He, again, corrected her with the look of lust growing more and more intense as he watched her investigate every feature upon his face. Removing her hand from his chest, and placed it against his cheek as he had done to her, relaxing so that she easily sat herself upon his lap, straddling his waist.

Ginevra could feel the hoarse starting hairs at his chin, and she smiled softly, something she hadn't brought herself to do in ages. "You need to shave," Draco seemed to ignore her comment, his hand traveling from her cheek to the back of her head, grasping a handful of her red locks into his palm.

He pulled her forward, crashing her lips against his in a piercing kiss, his lips moving just slowly over her's with steroidal force, yet, in the simplest of ways, it reminded her of the most gentlest of touches she'd ever felt.

She grinded forward against his pelvis once, expressing a sense of sensual unison; his need for her growing intensely harder with every movement. She, taking the initiative, pushed her tongue past his lips, exploring territory in which she'd never been, but had imagined so clearly many times in the past.

He yanked gently at her hair, increasing her arousal with the hint of pure amusement. Her heart was beating with ferocity as the heat between them increased. She could only smile through their motions as she could feel him growing lustful ever more beneath her.

"I should go," She muttered, her words barely getting out as his powerful arms pulled her closer in objection.

"No," He said in reply, but quickly stopped, realizing his actions were demonstrating the powers she had over him at that moment, sexually or emotionally, he needed no one. He loosened his grip from her, as she pushed herself up, smiling weakly with confusion.

With a swift hast, she danced a crossed the room, and to her quarters in which she couldn't wipe the bashful smile off her face.

* * *

"What should I do?" Ginevra questioned, looking at Draco a crossed the dining table. Conversation dared not venture further to revolve around their moment of passion earlier that week. Two days had passed, two awkward days.

"I told you…before," He reminded her, tracing the edge of his plate with his fork, avoiding her gaze intently, "Disguise yourself,"

"As who? He's not likely to trust anyone that just walks up to his door," She argued, her eyebrows furrowed in thought as her vision wandered to the ceiling, suddenly quite interested in the ceiling tiles.

"Lovegood? That mudblood?" He suggested, bringing the fork, loading with almost nothing, to his lips.

She shrugged, "I have to admit, you're actually coming out useful," She cracked, smiling just slightly, looking down to the chewing man a few feet from her.

"You expected otherwise?" She questioned, tilting his head up to meet her gaze. For a moment, Ginevra was desperate to look away, to give in to her urge, but her head didn't move. Neither did his.

"I had my doubts," She admitted, her voice soft and barely audible.

"Really?" His eyebrows rose up for a moment in curiosity.

"Really," She confirmed.

"So, my quite clever ideas changed your mind?" He questioned, attempting to not only keep the conversation alive, but almost, he seemed to care.

"Not only," She shrugged slightly, giving a bit of motion, "I suppose you give me something to look at,"

* * *

Um, I was going to make it longer, honestly, but hey, I'm updating faster than normal, right? Next chapter is coming up, it's going to be more action and Ginevra getting Neville, etc, etc.


	5. Another Man

**Hush**

**_By Diet Cigarette_**

* * *

Taking position in front of a large chrome mirror, Ginevra stared back upon her unrecognizable reflection. Long magenta locks curved around her shoulders, falling just shy of her breasts, whilst her once hazel eyes appeared dark and somber. 

She tried smiling, her eyes squinting and her teeth baring in foney joy. She had to admit it felt awkward in some ways, her cheek muscles were unfamiliar with the motion after years of lacked expression.

With a sigh, she turned around in the full length mirror, running over he appearance once more, double checking for any flaws.

"Do you really reckon this'll work?" She questioned the uninterested man sitting on her bed just a few feet away.

"And if it doesn't?" He reasoned, staring out though the windows in which the moon could be shown, glittering brilliantly as it floated in the sea of black sky. The round and circular satellite shown through his eyes; a soft moonlit glow lighting his features.

"If it doesn't, then they'll know we're scheming," Ginevra replied, all knowingly with a slight irritation to his moment of ignorance.

"They already know we're going to come after them. The Dark Lord won't let Potter kill him without a fight, he's not a bloody bug about to be stepped on, Weasley," He snapped as he crossed his arms in impatience.

"And you think I don't know that?" She shot back, piercing her lips together as she turned around to face him, staring him down as he sat. She had to admit, this aggression in his voice was anything but aggravating. She enjoyed it, honestly; it reminded her of anger, and animalistic rage. Primal instinct, she figured, to defend oneself, even if just to defend himself in a minor argument.

She would never tell him that, however. He looked up to meet her glances, his blue eyes slightly scrunched with stubborn expression, and his lips pulled tight in arrogance. She felt the side of her lips curving into a smile, but she stopped herself; her fingers finding the hem of her printed t-shirt, fiddling with the stitches with anticipation.

She was going to see Remus tonight, and actually spend the night, in hopes that he would take them to see Harry in the morning. Harry, of course, would have Neville. Draco, early that morning, had got to dear idiotic Tonks before she had made a trip to the Ministry. He hadn't took the time to share the details, only that she put up a great deal of a fight in the middle of a muggle neighborhood.

"So where do I tell him I've been?" Ginevra questioned Draco, changing the subject towards the upcoming mission.

He sat still for a moment, in thought, "To see her, I mean, your father?"

"I suppose, I mean, Remus has only met Ted once, to my knowledge. He wouldn't ask to many questions, I suppose,"

"Just don't get too cozy," He reminded her, standing to his feet, now towering over her petite body with his tall and slender build.

"Are you implying that I'll sleep with him?" She raised her eyebrows in a less enthusiastic surprise.

"Are you implying that I'd care?" He replied mockingly, imitating her tone as his head bobbed slightly from side to side, further insulting her. She was unsure whether he was just acting in this sort as a maneuver to irritate her, or if he was actually irritated himself, at the fact that she was going to spend a few days with another man. She decided not to flatter herself, and just assume Draco was frustrated and using her as a victim.

She shook her head in disapproval, yet kept quiet, avoiding further argument. As she was readying herself to depart, Draco stood, reaching his arm behind his neck to massage gently.

"Oye, Weasley," He called, causing the Tonks-look-alike to turn around, her thin eyebrows raising in expectation of what he was going to voice.

"What is it?" She questioned, tapping her side with slight impatience.

"Don't forget, Lupin is going to be pissed. Tonks wasn't supposed to go out on her own," This comment caused her to crackle to herself, a small smirk appearing upon her face in disbelief.

"How cute," She commented, thoughts flooding her mind; how protective the little wolf was over his bitch.

* * *

Standing on the outside of a small flat, Ginevra twitched her nose, encouraging herself to go further. She was surprised she had even found the half-breeds residence; it was difficult, no doubt. An abundant number of charms had been cast, all in which she cracked in a matter of sleepless nights. If it hadn't been for her past acquaintance with the man, she wouldn't of had any hope at all. 

A shame Remus always uses the same sequence of charms whilst casting protection charms. She would've half expected for ignorant Nymphadora to be bound down with countless spells, but she knew that the stubborn older woman would have none of that.

She placed her hand upon the icy doorknob, and twisted it, unlatching the opening mechanism. Pressing against it with incredibly uncertainty, she drew in her breath carefully and controlled. She hadn't seen this man in quite awhile, and though she had no fear over him; she feared the memories he would evoke in her.

Memories of Ginny. She would not lie to herself, sometimes, just sometimes she would always wonder what her life would be if she had not taken this path. Occasionally, she would even regret her decision, but quickly drew to the conclusion that she should not dwell on matters that had no significance now.

The aroma of pure vanilla filled her nostrils as she pushed forward, opening the door while she couldn't help but have an unusual knot in her chest area.

"Remus?" She called out, her voice matching the tone of her rival, Tonks. A simple charm that would last a few hours if done correctly. Her glamour charm, however, would hopefully last her a good while, and give any sign to dispersing.

She hear no response, and prayed that he would no be home at the moment. She had picked her arrival to his home carefully. She insisted that she arrive a few days before his transformation. Her would be too tired to try anything as couples do, and as soon as he was stuck away for a night, she would slip away.

Of course, Tonks wouldn't be coming back. Draco thought it amusing to keep her alive, just giving them that false sense of hope which they were so keen on always carrying with them. She thought it hopeless in every sense.

As the door swung open with a quick motion, she had a chance to take in every aspect of her temporary living quarters. Ginevra could only imagine how the two of them decorated their home; a wild woman trying to dress the décor with color, and a reserved old man wanting only the simplest of things.

There was a dark sofa set in the middle of the front room, surrounded by a matching set of purple suede armchairs, and two end tables, which were located on the side of each of the couch's arms. Everything about the room seemed the clash their two personalities into one. Perhaps it was the fact that there was a ancient rocking chair in the corner, sitting beside a glowing neon lava lamp.

She shook her head in disgust with a look of uncertainty washing over her face. Only a few days, She thought to herself, sickened upon the living conditions.

"Where've you been all night?" She heard a masculine voice questioned her, the sound coming from an ajar door in the corner, next to the glowing lamp.

"What do you mean, all night?" She snapped, slipping up. She was used to being snippy, and was definitely out of character at that moment. It was instinctive, though he was really talking to Tonks, Ginevra couldn't help but feel cornered. She would love nothing more than to yell and break the hybrid's heart, but that would have to be saved for later in the week, now, it was work.

An older man with sandy blonde hair appeared from around the corner, in a old fashioned shirt that she could've only assumed was made at least two decades ago. Gray hairs sprung at his hairline, and occurred more frequently around his ears. His haunting gray eyes were filled with hurt, and something more she could not put her finger on exactly.

"You said you were going to Ministry, or don't you remember?" He replied, in a very casually tone for such accusing words. His slacks were navy and straight, his brown suit shoes shining with polish. "You should've been back at 9, at the latest,"

"I went to my fathers afterwards," She retorted, her eyebrows furrowing with confusion written all over her face. Ginevra prayed that she was convincing, that he was convinced it was his beloved Tonks. She had never seen this side of Lupin before, he was always so quiet and reserved. This woman he had been seeing had truly brought something out in him.

"You've been at your fathers three times this week," His volume lowered as he plopped his aging figure upon the right armchair. Swinging his leg up and resting his elbow on the arm, he massaged his temples lightly as if in thought. "If you've been seeing…someone, then just come out with it."

She bit down upon her tongue, disgusted by the thoughts in her head. What exactly was she about to do? Show compassion for one of the men that hated Ginevra Weasley with such a passion for the past few years.

Walking towards him, she bent down placed her hand upon his back. "I wasn't going to tell you yet, " She lied, the words flowing out of her mouth without thought. She was purely improvising He tensed, only assuming her possible explanation. "He has cancer,"

"What?" He questioned, sitting up and looking up towards her. Their gaze met. She yearned to pull away, to break their locking eyes, but she knew she shouldn't or rather, couldn't. Her life depended upon this; getting to Harry, retrieving Neville. Her hollow insides could no longer feel the anticipation she once had for completing missions and making her superior pleased with her accomplishments.

"He's been sick for months now," She adjusted her expression to match the one of a mourning woman; one of unhappiness and lost hope. It was not difficult.

"Why didn't you tell me?" He said, standing up ahead of her, whilst taking his hands in her own. She felt a dry heave coming forward, but she inhaled and it was soon gone with the relaxation.

"I didn't need you sympathy, or anyone's for the matter," She explained, her palms, oddly enough, sweating just slightly. This felt disgusting, to show affection to him in her own little way. No matter how small the gesture, it still felt wrong, as if he were molesting her.

It was only their hands touching; how could she even bare a night alone, sleeping next to him? She knew nothing would happen. She simply would not allow such horrors.

"You could've at least come to me," He reasoned, his once jealous tone developing into a soft and tender. He drew her forward, taking her petite body into his arms. His scent was a distinctive pine aroma, she recognized

Ginevra didn't want to get too mushy, so avoiding more contact, she made the excuse that she needed to use the restroom. Pulling away, she looked around, heading towards the room that Remus had originally came from.

"Where are you going?" He chuckled, watching his thought to be girlfriend heading in the wrong direction. He thought it amusing, she thought it irritating.

"That bathroom,"

"That's the bedroom,"

She paused, piercing her lips together in thought of an excuse, "Well, of course, I wanted to take my shoes off," She quickly lied. Slipping Tonk's colorful sneakers off her feet, she quickly looked around. It was a small bedroom, which was almost vacant with the exception of a king sized bed propped against the wall. She frowned when the realization of her sleeping beside the wolf arose in her mind. Maybe if she busied herself as much as possible, he wouldn't bother her for something she definitely had no plans of giving.

She hadn't given her body to anyone. Anyone except Harry.

* * *

_Oh, please review, won't you? 3 Okay, so guys, I'll admit it. I'm sort of making up this story as I go, I have no clue how to end this, or what is going to happen, lol. I feel unorganized, but it's sort of just coming to me as I write. All I ask if you stick with me and forgive my mistakes. J I'm in that DARK GINNY mood, since I'm writing in my pitch black room, with one candle and a storm crashing down upon my windows outside. :P_

_Okay, let's face it; Ginevra and Draco as going to get it on sometime. So I ask you; turn this fic to Mature or keep it clean? Give me your insight._

Sorry, but another note. She won't be a Remus's long, just a night so she'll soon be back in the arms of Draco, my lovelies.


	6. Courting

**Hush**

**_By Diet Cigarette_**

* * *

The brisk aroma of burning timber flowed through the dark room. No sun rays pierced the unshaded windows, and the soft sound of crackling wood was the only noise that could be heard over their steady breathes. Ginevra patiently seated herself to the far right side of the sofa while her supposed spouse entered the room from the kitchen, holding a wine glass filled to the middle with a blood like liquid.

Remus held out the spare drink, offering it to her in which she graciously excepted with a small nod.

"What's the occasion?" She questioned him, folding her knees to her chest, restricting the area in which he could approach her. Lowering his body down upon the couch, he sat as close as to the supposed Tonks as possible.

"We always do this, the night before the.. moon," He paused before muttering the last word, his lips tightening just slightly, "Don't you remember?"

"I was just making sure," She smiled, hiding the discomfort she truly felt. She loathed the simple thought of touching him, never mind, him actually touching her. Against her plan for the evening, he grabbed her hand and kissed it while looking deep into her charmed eyes.

Ginevra resisted the urge to vomit, or even to recoil her hand and curse him to hell.

"This always seems to make me tired," She lied, looking upon her beverage and not in the least bit familiar with that was actually inside her glass.

"That's not what I recall," His arm slipped around her shoulders. This caused her to pierce her lips together, while her shoulders scrunched up in tension. She could tell he was trying to be romantic. She felt he was trying a bit to hard - with the alcohol to lower her judgment, the suggestive comments that she assumed he thought would get her in the 'mood'. If only she could scoff.

"Do you want a massage?" He offered, as she looked the other way to avoid his gaze altogether.

"No, no, it's fine," She replied, bringing the ruby drink to her lips, and portrayed what she assumed would make him think she was drinking, but in all reality, her lips never opened. She never took a sip.

They sat for minutes, staring into the burning inferno, his lustful breath against her neck. Quick witted Ginevra Weasley rested her head upon the werewolf's shoulder with self control, and forced herself to snuggle against his chest.

"This is perfect," She whispered, barely audible to the human ears, but quite traceable to the canine's. She closed her eyes, playing the part of a sleeping woman. She prayed to no god that Remus would have the so called compassion he was known for and not allow his raging wolfish hormones to wake her in her false slumber. After long moments of silence, Remus spoke:

"Dora?" He questioned, looking down. She knew Tonks would've corrected him, but a sleeping Tonks would not.

"Tonks?" He questioned again, slightly louder whilst moving just slightly as if to get her attention. She did not move. With a small sign of disappointment, he placed his drink down and looked down to his lovely partner. He smiled, pure joy entering his heart. Ginevra could feel the warmth and love he felt towards Tonks -- it made her nauseous.

With various movements, he somehow lifted her limp body and made the slow walk towards the bedroom in which Ginevra earlier mistook for the bathroom. Her weight was cast down upon the feathered mattress, and she sleepily rolled to her side, which she hoped would be facing the wall rather than the other side of the bed.

The atmosphere in the room changed, and she could pin point his placement around the bed by his movements. He began unbuttoning his shirt, and though Ginevra as to admit she had just the slightest curiosity in viewing the man's bare body, her eyes remained closed.

The slight clink of his belt hitting the floor sounded, and he started to make this way towards the bed. He lifted the blanket slowly as not to disturb his mate and gracefully laid his body next to her own. She did not face him, fore she felt his hot breathe sliding down her neck. A thick chill ran down her body, and she shook softly in reaction.

Within minutes of the movement ceasing in the bed, she slowly found her thoughts drifting from concern and her attentive awareness lifting from her mind. Her once stiff and worrisome body relaxed under the cushioned bed, and she found herself falling into a hopefully dreamless and undisturbed slumber.

Within seconds of her awaited rest, she was disturbed. The quilt that lay over her disguised body was moving slightly, irritatingly moving up and down off of her chilled shoulders and arms. Her eyebrows furrowed in frustration as she had drifted back into reality, and with a grunt, she quickly turned around.

Ready to scold her temporary partner, she quickly lost all thoughts of angry when she too sight upon what Remus was up too.

"You're disgusting!" She shouted, jumping out of bed as she realized that it was his hand causing the distress. His hand, in fact, with pleasuring himself to oblivion. The older, middle-aged man's cheeks turned a bright shade of red, and his eyes stared at her like a deer would in headlights. He stood still, unsure of what move to make next.

Ginevra almost literally jumped up from the bed, and snatching her pillow from off the mattress, "Excuse me, but I don't want to be your audience, I don't remember buying tickets to Wild Werewolves Beat Off," She gagged, her nose scrunched up, as she began to stalk around the bed and head towards the door.

"Dora," He groaned in embarrassment, his free hand smacking his forehead and sliding down his face in disbelief.

"Bugger off, pervert," She growled, gripping her wand that lay tucked away on her hip, snagged into her knickers so it wouldn't fall to her feet. She didn't trust to sleep without it; just in case.

She urged to curse Remus just for the per sake of it; just to punish him for making her queasy. In fact, she almost had, but quickly remembered there was a job at hand. She threw the cotton sack upon the sofa, and threw herself on it. In a matter of minutes, the sight of Remus stroking his member completely left her thoughts.

* * *

Arriving at Grimmauld's place, she couldn't help but hold her breath as memories of her former life ran through her mind, filling her thoughts with an infinite amount of 'what if' questions. She didn't want to think such disloyalties, nor did she want to hover her thoughts upon the 'could've', but something inside did not allow her to brush off the images.

The time spent there went almost like a blur, and, consumed in her own selfish reflecting, she hadn't even realized the time passing under her nose. She had bee there almost an hour before even recognizing that Fred and George had been speaking to her for over several minutes.

"Uh, huh," She nodded, without knowing what the twins were speaking about, nor even having the patients to care. She was surprised by her lack of interest in her brothers. She had originally believed that she would be shocked into seeing their faces, perhaps, even amazed, but no emotion stirred in her core as their lips moved at miles per hour. What really amazed her was the fact that they continued to use the old bloody cottage even after Snape had access to the home. She supposed they figured they could take one man down with their ten plus.

Her eyes ran to the parlor, old furniture covered in a thick layer of gray dust which had not yet been cleaned, she spotted her supposed husband chatting it up with her master's foe; her ex lover.

She couldn't help but glare daggers at the now, man, who had deserted her in her most vulnerable, confused time. She felt angry, and betrayed, though, if for a moment she rationalized, she knew that it was Harry who should be feeling these emotions.

"What's wrong with you, Tonks?" She heard the twin to the left say.

"Nothing, me and Remus are arguing," Ginevra replied smoothly. She took pride in herself for being a marvelous liar.

"Aw, about what?" The one on the right said.

"Grow up things," She dully told them both, apathetic to their wants for more information.

She heard Molly in the other room, shouting, and of course, she only assumed acting over bearing as always. She closed her eyes, and faked a yawn, avoiding the very thought of setting sights upon the mother of the young man she murdered in cold blood.

Her own mother; Ron's mother.

She turned her head in the opposite direction from Mrs. Weasley' voice, and gazed around the kitchen in which she had not took a stepped inside in ages. She laid eyes upon her objective past the colored quilted oven mitts, and rusted pans.

Neville stood, fiddling with his precious herbs and harmless plants. She couldn't help but roll her eyes at the pathetic attempt to make friends outside his best buddy, dear grandmamma.

"Neville," Ginevra purred, approaching him slowly and stealthily, such as a lion would her prey.

* * *

**_Sorry this took so damn long, I'm writing as much as possible but I got a new job and it doesn't help that I get major over time. 11 hours a day. D: I got a new puppy too, just everything is not in my favor for writing right now._**

**_NO SPOILERS; Deathly Hollows came out, and it totally contradicts my story but of the fuck well, I'm carrying on and disregarding the seventh book._**


	7. Cock and Load

**Hush**

_**By Diet Cigarette**_

* * *

"I'm not entirely sure myself," Remus shrugged, turning his head to glance back at his wife, "She's been acting..strange, lately," He confessed, piercing his lips together. Harry furrowed his eyebrows in suspicion but did not speak of it to Lupin. There were far too many people in the house, and chaos would reign if someone had the slightest idea of what he believed to be wrong with Tonks. 

Harry played along.

"Perhaps, it's that time of the month?" He suggested, though he meant it sarcastically, Remus took him seriously and shook his head.

"No, no, I don't believe that's it," The older man reasoned, rubbing his temples in concern.

* * *

"Oh, you've done a lovely job," She falsely chuckled, rubbing Neville's arm playfully, feeling the soft worn cotton under her palms.. She had never been certainly good at flirting, but she had to step it up in order for Neville to get the confidence to show her around the upstairs. She used the excuse that she desired to see the house after it had been tidied up a bit. 

"Thanks, Tonks," He seemed uncertain, the confusion in his eyes were apparent. Ginevra just needed a bit more time before she could apparate them both out of there. She almost couldn't believe it was going to be this easy.

They made their way into Sirius' parent's room.

"So, yea, we haven't really gotten to this room," Neville started the complain, Ginevra approaching him slowly. With every step she took, she could almost feel his emotions radiating off his body. He felt uncertain, nervous.

"You're so tense," She cooed, resting her hands upon his shoulders, and smiling devilishly.

"Oh, well, yea, I've been, you know, cleaning this place, it gets a bit, uh, stressful. Especially taking care of my plants, and all," He stammered at first, but finished his last remark with ease. For a moment, she almost couldn't believe that he was on such good terms with those bloody flowers.

She let her hands wander over his shoulders, running down his blubbery arms, and resting them around his expanded waist. Licking her lips, she stared down Neville with her jaw clenched. If not for her famed role as death eater, Ginevra might have considered the career as an actress. She certainly could pull off making Neville believe she was lusting after him. Then again, Neville would be excited for any woman to lust after him.

"Tonks," Another male's voice questioned from the doorway. Neville sprung backwards, descending onto his bottom as he stared to the doorway in disbelief.

"Harry, I swear, I swear on Merlin nothing happened," Neville began rambling placing his arm behind his body and slowly propelling himself back to his feet. "I swear on Grams,"

"Neville, would you give me and Nymphadora a minute?" Harry asked the plump man, his gaze running over Ginevra's figure, tracing over her disguised curves and brought his eyes to rest upon her emotionless face. Without a word, Neville quickly raced out of the area, his footsteps slamming down upon the floorboards.

She dared not say a word.

"What the bloody hell was that?" Harry folded his arms, leaning against the doorway in an almost relaxed posture. One f his dark eyebrows was raised in curiosity, while his strict lips were screaming of anger and nerve.

"What do you mean?" She questioned him in return, straightening her stance and returning his hateful glare.

"Ginny," He scoffed, almost disappointed with her lack of creativity.

"Harry," She coolly replied, her body locking still while her eyes followed his every word. He straightened up, cautiously approaching her. He did not draw his wand, but as her gaze flowed down his scrawny body, and found his hand dangerously close to his robe pocket.

"You expected it to work?" He chuckled, shaking his head insultingly, as he halted his movements feet away from where she stood.

"Perhaps I under estimated you. For a moment there, I thought I was dealing with a bunch of barbaric giants," She stopped, piercing her lips with a smirk forming, "Oh, silly me, I forgot, there is a brainless giant here, isn't there? He can't speak much English, can he?"

Harry's face muscles twitched just slightly at the mention of Hagrid. The remarks to seem have bothered him minimally.

"You can't say a word about intelligence, Ginny," He snapped, his forehead scrunching with conniption, "Have you forgotten that you've got Crabbe and Goyle on your side?"

Without a second between their words, she snapped, using what she knew would strike a nerve, "Oh, and Ron was the brainiac, I recall? Dear brother of mine went and got himself avada'ed , did he? Sirius, Dumbledore, and now Ronald. Harry, Harry, you really should keep track of your pets more,"

At the mention of Sirius, Harry's hand drove into his pocket with whiplash speed, drawing in forward and pressing it before her guise.

"You don't have the nerve," Her words slithered, leaving her mouth with a smooth whisper.

"Are you willing to test that?" He shot back, whilst Ginevra looked down to the tip of his holly device.

"Well, I don't know, Harry," She took one step forward, her weight shifting slowly while she brushed the tip of his wand down her lips. "We've tested a lot of things,"

"What are you getting at?" Was his immediate response.

"But then, I'd hate to tell you that your eleven inch, holly, just can't stand up to Draco's thirteen, hawthorn. So much more skilled, Harry, you'd think that The Boy Who Lived would be powerful at anything, but Merlin, I'd ride his broomstick any day compared to yours," She knew she was completely out of character. Ginevra was well aware of the fact that she was no longer herself, nor Tonks, but she could not let Harry go once more unscarred emotionally. And his ex sleeping with the one man he hated most besides Voldemort? It had potential.

He swished his wand in her face, causing her to back up on expectation. Her heart began to beat a bit faster as she dropped to the floor, attempting to avoid his spell. Gripping her wand, she felt herself give way to apparation and disappeared from Grimmauld.

* * *

She disembarked upon the chilled tile floor of her bathroom. Her pupils grew instantly with the familiar dark gloom she was so accustom to, was s fond of. She smiled as she stared down to the details of the shadowed floor. Lifting herself up, she branched her spine backwards, hearing the small pop of her neck tight and rigid spine. 

Taking her wand, she lightly pressed it against her skin and returned to her favored form. To the red headed woman she longed to be since she had transformed.

Fingertips met cloth as she striped her over-clothed body of the heavy robe. Her neck turned slightly, letting her gaze drift a crossed the granite bath. This bathroom did not belong to her. Taking her lip between her teeth, she nipped down just slightly as she gracefully glided towards the serpent doorknob. She recognized the décor immediately as Draco's living quarters.

She traced the fangs of the snake, rubbing her finger down the cold metal and admiring the almost life like work. The eyes were replaced with a dark onyx jewel. She gripped it into her palm, turning it slightly and opening the over sized doors, penetrating the bedroom of Draco Malfoy.

Spacious and massive, her lips slightly parted unconsciously in awe.. A large chandelier hung down from his expensively decorated retreat, with dark red, almost maroon, coloring splattered upon his walls, while the hardwood floors shined below where she stood. Though there was much space, she found herself almost noticing how empty it seemed. Apart from the light fixture, nothing in the room remained with the exception of an enormous bed sitting smack in the middle of the foreboding vastness.

She felt drawn to the black satined sheets that dropped over his unkept mattress. Stepping forward, she slowly found herself arriving next to the bed, in which it stood tall, almost to her waist. She lay her pale hand down upon the material which shined in the little light that the room possessed. She glided her palm over the ebony texture, tasting it's feathery quality.

"Draco?" She called, turning her neck for a moment, searching for the ambushing eyes of none other than her cryptic roommate. There was no response, nor anyone looking back at her from the shadows which took refuge in the corners.

Hoisting herself upon the bed, and used to toes to kick off her shoes in respect. Not for Master Malfoy, but so that the incredibly feel of the silk wouldn't be damaged. Or at least, that's what she told herself. Ginevra did not like the idea of her respecting Draco.

Her body bounces down upon the springs, her loose scarlet hair flying upward and descending into her freckled face as she landed upon her back, basking in the smooth oasis. She had almost forgot that Harry had discovered her only minutes before. In all honestly, she was completely apathetic to the situation. Not wanting to dwell on her failure, nor manifest on what the Dark Lord would assume, she lazily closed her eyes and felt her beating heart slow with content.

"What are you doing?" Ginevra heard the voice call from the doorway entrance. It was Draco.

"The material," She marveled, cuffing the silk in her clasp once more, feeling the soft fabric brush against her equally soft, frail skin, "It's nice."

"Yea," He paused as she looked up to meet his gaze. His eyes were clouded with an emotion she could not name specifically, "Now, get off before Lupin's left over juices get all over my bed," His voice seemed to growl.

Her forehead wrinkled with insult, "What do you mean?" She interrogated him rather than ask. She had a feeling of what he meant, but desired her conclusions to be confirmed.

"I can practically smell the wet dog's smell from here, now off," He approached her, his lips remaining level without a sign to if he was simply joking of if he was truly serious. Then it hit her; Malfoy rarely joked.

"If you're implying I slept with the half-breed, you are sorely mistaken," She hissed, standing to her feet to stop him from coming closer. He had acted as if he was ready to pull her off his resting place.

"Well, why not? You're so keen on sleeping with Wonder Boy. I supposed you were partial to the mutants," He sharply replied. As those words finished leaving his frosted lips, she raised her hand from her side, trusting it towards her target; Malfoy's cheek.

Her weapon hadn't a moment to strike it's ambition when Draco snatched her wrist from mid-air. She stared at him for a moment, in shock, before she made a small snarl as she snatched her arm back, placing it at her side. She ignored the throbbing distress that shot down her wrist.

Ginevra would've cursed him. She would've insulted him. She would've hurt him. She would've if she hadn't been so memorized by the salacious hint in his expression.

"And why do you even care about my sexual affairs?" She hissed, questioning him with little sympathy in her tone.

* * *

:DDDDD 

I updated quickly this time! and I've been trying to plan this story out more, but everything I write, I'll review the next day and it just seems too..cheesy. Well, anywayyyy.. Hope you enjoyed.


	8. Sweat

**Hush**

**By Diet Cigarette**

**

* * *

**

Ginevra stepped backwards as he slowly advanced. She felt hunted, prey-like. Feeling the crisp painted wall compressing against her back, she could reverse no longer. His pasty teal eyes were cold, and misty as he stared her down, until there was mere centimeters between their bodies. He towered over her small frame, riveting down.

She felt no fear. She rarely felt anything at all at these times. The duo's gaze was clocked for what made moments seem like forever. Draco slowly brought his hand up to shoulder length, bringing his flushed fingertip to rest upon her skin.

His touch was fire, and as he traced down her forearm, he insisted upon leaving a burning trail of euphoria. Her breath caught in her throat as he made a small circle around the area he had recently bruised.

"I apologize," He whispered, so nigh that his feverish breath pressed against her flushed cheeks. Ginevra was at a loss for words. Draco had never admitted to remorse since she had first spoken to the boy, who was now standing before her a man.

Her honey eyes still hadn't broke from his; his smooth touch still enflamed. She hungered to be engulfed in his sensual touch, if only for a second. She had concentrated upon his contact that the fact that his lips were a movement from her own hadn't manifested in her mind yet.

Hesitant, she did not respond immediately, in which Draco grew impatient, pressing his demanding mouth upon her smooth, unexpecting lips.

Her eyes closed without delay, as his lips slowly moved in a rhythmic fashion; his moisture allowing their lips to glide together without the faintest lurch. Her tongue now seemed to have worked on it's own selfish accord as it slide a crossed his lower lip in desire, in lustful impulse.

He graciously accepted with the parting of his lips. She pressed her tongue into his mouth, fighting a loosing battle against his thick tongue, seeming loosing control with every passing moment. Her hands found their way into his growing blond hair, pulling slightly as his own snaked around her waist,; sliding her closer and closing the already small gap in between the two.

Their tongues entwined, coupling together and sliding to each one's delight. Ginevra couldn't help but realize it felt as if she were kissing him for the first time. He savored her sweet taste as he took his time exploring her mouth. His hands squeezed her waist, his lustful needs arising.

Adrenaline pumped through her veins as she felt his fingers dig slightly into her dimpled lower back. Ginevra moaned into his kiss, her back arching and her breasts pushing upwards, craving attention. She inhaled greatly as he pulled back, taking a second to glance down to her swollen lips.

For a moment, she thought he would kiss her once more, but was mistaken as his lips moved to her jaw line, leaving a trail of small soft kisses to her neck. Nipping slightly at her collarbone, socking hard for a pure sensational moment until he continued his expedition downward.

She used her hands to shoo him away so she might free her chest from her blouse, but Draco paid her no mind, unbuttoning her shirt with expert and seductive speed. He pulled away at her bodice, it was soon after her bra was discarded to the floor. She took this time to strip the blond of his own garment, hauling it above his head and tossing it to the side without concern or disregard to where it landed. Admiring his bare, muscular chest, she ran one finger down the middle, onto his belly button, manipulating a shiver out of the man.

Taking a hand from around her waist, he brought it to cup her left breast, pinching and stimulating her warm nipple between his fingers. She gasped, in which he hushed her with a abrupt peck.

His lips were once more venturing below, as he took her into his mouth, teasing her as the sexual humidity in the air grew foggy. The hand that was gently adhering to her breath moved down her smooth and exposed stomach, taking in the texture in feel of her milky skin. If she wasn't mistaken, she could almost of sworn that she seen the slightly smile upon his guise.

Ginevra could not help but notice the amount of attention he was paying her body, and curiously wondered how long he had been waiting to touch her in the way he was now.

Her thoughts were cast out of existence as she felt his worn hands hastily working at her pant's button, and instead of fearfully recoiling to his desires, she pushed her pelvis area forward so that he might quicken his pace.

Drawing her pants down to her ankles, Draco decided it irrelevant to slide them off her body completely, and his eyes were draw her laced knickers. With a wicked smirk, he stood back to his feet, and crashed his lips onto hers once more, distracting her with his insatiable flavor as his hands stealthy ran down the rim of her remaining thread.

He pushed the stitched hem aside, bringing his cold fingers in contact with her moistened, hot body.

She gasped. "Draco," Ginevra pleased, drawing out his name. He said nothing, as his finger pushed against her soaking lips. He controlled his actions, she could tell. She wanted him to completely ravish her petite figure, but he was taking his time, drowning every touch with awaited bliss.

She didn't open her eyes as she arched her back further against the wall, his dewy lips playing with her collarbone once more. Her head pressed against the wall as he brushed against her clit. She moaned, her muscles clenching as she craved more. There was a small pulse circulating through her body, an animalistic desire to be taken and violated. She was too far into her life, know as sadistic and cruel to concern herself of he newly found fondness and attraction to having Malfoy pollute her body.

Unspeakable notions flared through her head. Perverse and fiendish, she found they heightened her arousal. His touch kneaded her privates, and unexpectingly, as if to intentionally catch her off her guard, she felt his fingers thrust inside her. Her jaw dropped as he muscles once again constricted in indulgence. She felt her eyes attempt to squint but she kept them ajar, fixed upon Draco's own, feeling the intimacy through their gaze.

Ginevra, unable to bear the thought of another moment without his entire touch, worked her arms down to his own belt, unbuckling it with impatient ease, yanking it from around his waist with a small swipe, and throwing it to their feet.

She could feel the hard budge surrounding where her hands work. It was her bounty, her ambition. She was so consumed by the thought of Draco, she embraced the fact that she had forgotten about her failed task. He watched her, fighting his raging instincts to seize her body, and take her that instant. Instead, he kept his cool posture, and watched her with mental anguish that she was not working faster. His pants dropped to the ground, and he kicked them off with a stiff and hunter like stance.

"Ferret," She chuckled slightly, looking up to his face as he stood before her, bare with the exception of his boxers. Her heart leapt into her throat with a sense of nervousness, yet excitement. Running a thin finger down his cheek, he pressed his prickly jaw against her touch as he fought ever more to control his actions to steady, controlled movements.

He brought his hands to caress her shoulders, slowly moving down to her arms, waist, feeling her curves, and testing her touch. Draco admired her round breasts, as he took a step closer, his hot body pressing against her own, both their body heat's rising.

With a hungry look in his eyes, he demandingly pressed his mouth on hers for one of the many kisses they would share that night. He was harsh this time, more for himself than concerned with his wants. She is the Draco she knew, she wanted.

The budge that she once laid eyes on was prodding her lower waist since she was incredibly shorter than him, but her height seemed not to phase him as he worked his tongue around hers, twisting and entwining it with her's.

His hands fell down her waist, and down to her laced knickers, he pulled them down with a quick stroke. She smiled into his lips as she reacted by doing these actions upon him as well. They both found themselves kicking off their unmentionables, and she took this time to let her eyes wander to the place she was always curious about. She felt his cruel gray ones upon her body, inspecting her as though for the first time.

He was big, his white blond hair framing his long member, while she noticed a small vein protruding. A small shiver ran down her shine, not from the cold wall in which she was used to, but the chill of a yearning, and hunger.

He pressed up against her again, in which Ginevra took the initiative, or rather instinct, to took a hold of him in her palm, stroking him as her eyes moved back up to meet his. He did not want to reveal the pleasure she was delightfully giving him, so he gritted his teeth to hide the fact that his insides were turning out. Contemplating whether to move to the bed or not, he decided to not waste his time, and brought their lips together.

Ginevra felt his leg slide between her thighs, and hoist her up to his height. He gripped her body around the waist and held her up as he broke their playful tongues to position himself between her legs. Her body was hot, and flushed as she felt her heart beating in her stomach.

Without advanced warning, he thrusted himself into her, causing Ginevra to take a hold of her bottom lip with her teeth, eyes squinting. Nevertheless, the awareness of a knot in her stomach was a one of tangible enjoyment, a feeling that was rare to her.

Draco settled for a moment, finding a more adequate region, rather than giving her time to adjust. After only a second, his hands were gripping at her bottom, pressing into her further, and pulling out with a slow start, but his moments wound up after moments of ecstasy.

Her head pressed against the wall as her closed off eyes were pulled tight. Faintly, she could hear his pleasured growls, whilst she could barely make out her own whimpers that she fought to keep in. For some odd reason, even as she wanted this, she did not want Draco to have the upper hand. It was a little late for that, she realized as she recalled that she was now pinned against a wall by the man.

Her scarlet hair bounced with his movements, a salty taste slowly flowing onto her tongue in tiny quantities. Her lips was now punctured just slightly from her nip, in which she removed her bite, and felt the sting. Draco, noticing this, pressed his moist lips against hers, tasting her warm blood, his pushing movements making it awkward as they're lips remained locked.

She didn't think anything, she couldn't as she concentrated on the pressure within her, the amazing pressure that made her entire body weak with felicity. Their exasperated gasped grew more frequent as he forcefully continued to slam himself into her; her thighs bruising and her back arching.

They reached their climax with a gasp, and a growl, and he slowly pulled out as her rigid breaths gasped for breath like a fish from it's lake. She felt a mixture of their juices sliding down her leg. Ginny would've been disgusted, Ginevra was satisfied beyond belief, too caught up in the moment to care.

The musk of their sweaty bodies filled the air, as they slid to the cold and polished floors, exhausted. For a moment, in the back of her mind as she laid her damp figure upon his, she almost compared his performance to Harry's, but the ideas were quickly pushed aside before the conclusion

"Draco?" Ginny asked after a few moments, lifting her head up to meet his gaze.

"Mm?" He lazily replied.

"Do you love me?" She almost chuckled, almost. He raised his eyebrow, as if questioning her sanity.

"No, don't ruin the moment, Weasley," He told her, his forehead wrinkling I confusion.

"I didn't mean it like that, you git," She growled for him even contemplating the idea of her loving him. "I just always thought I'd save myself for the man I loved,"

"You haven't exactly 'saved' yourself, you realize that? I mean, shagging Potter until his eyes popped out doesn't constitute for saving oneself," He quipped, the traditional smirk arriving on his delicate features.

"You know what I mean," Ginevra replied, rolling her honey eyes as she picked herself up.

**

* * *

**

**Yea, so this story officially M now. :P**

**The next chapter might take me a bit. I'm confused on where to go from here, but I certainly have an idea. I hate the word penis and dick, so forgive me if I refrain from using them. :D**


	9. Anger and Defeat

-1**Hush**

**By Diet Cigarette**

**

* * *

**As she lifted her body to her haunches, looked down to the sweat glossed man. White glare draped his forehead from the bit of light left in the room. Her breathes were still rigid, as she pressed her shoulders back to stretch. 

Ginevra would've backed out of the room before further time was spent with the man, but she was abruptly halted by a surging and sharp pain coursing through the forearm. The Dark Mark. Her insides flipped, though she refused to show them through her features. A slight pang of fear filtered through her dulled emotions, but she knew in order to survive, they had to be controlled and subdued.

"Ah, fuck," She groaned softly, meant for only her own ears. If not for refusing the shut her eyes, she might not of see Draco piercing his lips together in order to keep his composure.

With a wave, he dressed into his black, masked robes. The ebony fabric flowing over his body with deadly intimidation. After a quick snap, and without a second glance, he was gone.

She released her held in air, and wrenched her neck to the side, ignoring the slight popping noise she heard. She reached for her wand as well, dressing herself in the heavy attire, and for a moment, she thought of not attending her master's calling.

She had failed him, she had let Neville go without a fight, and if she did not loose her life tonight, she was fortunate beyond belief. It was stupidity that spoke in her mind, though, doubt of the Dark Lord. If she would attend, he might even have the mercy to grant her her life for the simple fact she had enough courage to face him.

Never the less, if she was to run, he would find her, and this life was already an unforgivable hell. What would a life on the run be?

Shaking her jumbled thoughts, she without further contradiction, transported her newly dressed body to his call. She ignored the sore touch between her thighs, as well as the familiar pressure. She could've sworn Draco was still between her legs, he had indented her to that extent.

Her knees buckled beneath her light weight as she found herself in the dark. Colored lights that she knew weren't really there danced a crossed her vision, whilst a small, yet increasingly nagging throb echoed just behind her forehead.

As she returned to her normal posture, she could faintly hear the shuffling of aligning robes. Brown eyes looked up, meeting the ones of red that she vigorously fought to keep contact with.

"Miss Weasley," His voice drew out her last name with venom. She hadn't expected to apparate directly into his presence. If she had known his location exactly, she would've made sure to impress him instead of weakly showing her fatigue and discomfort.

Though she knew her adrenaline should've been pulsing through her body, she felt nothing but an unusual serenity surround her. Voldemort's crimson glare looked as though they were rubies stolen from Satan's crown itself. He was enclosed by a group of on looking black coats, in which she felt their eyes staring down upon her, causing her to shiver.

"Come forward," His tongue clicked as his stiff, controlled tone coated each word with a poisonous hiss. She did not notice her legs working upon their own accord until she was only feet from his lumbering placid figure; until she could almost clearly make out the faintest flaw and scar imbedded into his guise.

"It's under my understanding that you've failed us," The useage of 'us' seemed to create a small buzz amoung the shadows behind her.

"I\m afraid so," Ginevra sounded, almost cockily.

"You're fortunate I don't take your life this instant!" He boomed impulsively, in which she couldn't help but flinch from the startle. She said nothing, her swollen pink lips remaining level, without any emotion as her gaze moved downward, avoiding his angry stare then, "You will find I'm merciful," He cooed, almost as if he was doing her a favor, "And spare your life, but,"

Her jaw clenched and her blinks were holded longer as she anticipated the awaited pain. "You will not go unpunished, Miss Weasley," She nodded. She was not afraid of death, but pain, pain was another thing.

"Crucio!" He cried after he pointed her wand in her direction. It took only a fraction of a second for the affects to take hold on her body. Agony, unlike any muggle or animal could imagine. It sent her nerves an electric shock which made her feel as though her body were threw onto the sun, and as if just moments from exploding.

Her ears popped, which aided in clouding out her vivid screams of suffering. She fell onto her knees, the cold floor of his hideaway chilling her distressed body, as her eyes sealed tight as she attempted to regain control.

Crackling arose from Voldemort's voice, "Draco, perhaps living with you as taught her to rely on other's to do their deeds, sadly, Snape isn't here to take over, I suppose," He insulted them both, his sick smile twitched upon his cheeks.

Draco said nothing.

* * *

The ache in her body throbbed as she dragged herself magically back to Malfoy Manor. The silence screamed in her ears, or perhaps it was just the strong migraine thumping through her thoughts. As Draco quickly arrived after her, for a moment, he attempted to approach the suffering woman. But as he did so, Ginevra recoiled, almost as if disgusted by his touch,

His confused and annoyed gaze met her's of fury and anger.

"Oh, what?" He snapped, as if almost reading her mind. "Was that somehow my fault, Weasley?" He questioned her interrogatively.

"You could've done _something,_" Her voice was low, almost as if she had no plans of discussing the matter. She turned around to depart from the hollow room, but his voice stopped her movements in their tracks.

"You must be off your rocker if you think I'm going to risk my life just to save your ass--for something that was your fault!" He chuckled, _chuckled. _

"Well, excuse me for expecting better of you," Her reply was casual, almost mockingly casual.

"Oh, would you listen to yourself/" He questioned, astounded at her childish behavior. "You're crazy, absolutely crazy, I suppose fucking around with a Potter will do that to the _worst_ of the pure line,"

"Oh, stop trying to his me with your pathetic insults,"

"Fact of the matter if, you shouldn't of expected anything from me, Ginny."

Her once throbbing heart stopped for a moment, throwing itself into her throat. "Don't call me that," She hissed, her eyes glaring daggers as she fought to keep her composure. She still felt the side effects of the curse stinging at her skin, but for the first time that night, she was not focused upon them.

He raised at eyebrow arrogantly. "Ah," Draco smirked, "Can't face your demons, I see," He sounded more like a therapist than a murderer just then.

"What ar-" Ginevra tried to interrupt but it was no use.

"You are Ginny fucking Weasley, an immature selfish, little brat, not to mention a failure as a death eater.. That's why you were punished, not because I wouldn't save you. It's what you signed up for, or were you expected us to baby you like your Potter?" He snapped, folding his arms as he made his way around the sofa of his parlor.

"A failure as a death eater?" She scoffed, watching him move, yet her neck muscles not turning to face him. "What of you, then? Have you forgotten you didn't have the stomach to kill Albus? You had to have Snape, _Snape_, carry it out for you, and on top of that, your mother, of all people, had to make him promise to help you. That's pathetic, Draco, not me. I'll never have as much dishonor as you. And I, I am a disgrace to the pure line? What about the pale faced little boy who had to have his mummy's help?" She ranted, her words like bullets, hitting him, yet his expressions refused to show the pang of anger, attraction, and hatred he had just then.

Before a second passed through time, his bony hand flew into his pocket with amazing speed and flung his wand into the air, casting out and unbearable spell, straight for the chest of his lover. She hadn't time to think, only one spell came into mind as she stared directly into the yellow light flaring in her direction.

"BATROUS!"

Her arched eyebrows rose in surprise as she watched it glisten, heading back towards it's caster. Draco hadn't time to react, as it blew into a small burning ball of inferno, speeding in his path.

BANG. The wind of the explosion caused her to take a step back, and her expression of anger became one of concern.

"Draco?" She called out as the scene before her caused a gust of smoke to cover her sight. She heard not a reply. "Malfoy, I swear, if you're playing games," She growled, taking a few steps forward, the blanket of grey mist gliding over her petite frame.

**

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Fans, readers, I love you, and I am so so so sorry to update always late. This job is ruining my writing time, but I have good news, I'm cutting down to three days a week instead of five so I should DEF have more time to write, thank goddess.

To explain Ginevra's craziness after she arrived home -- Like the Longbottoms, they went insane because of it, no? So I suppose Ginevra would have a dementia moment, only temporary, of course.


	10. Update Status

Okay, this is Diet Cigarette. I've gotten a lot of reviews asking what was going on, so I owe you an explanation. This story is on hiatus. I had about three chapters written out and ready for updating but for some reason my old computer crashed and I lost all my files, so Im busy trying to figure out which way I want to go with this story, and no, it's not over, I love this plot too much. Im sorry for the inconvience, but Im trying! I love you guys, thanks for reading. I'll be back, promise. 


	11. Pet

**-Hush-  
By Diet Cigarette**

* * *

"LEMATO!" She heard his gruff and weakened voice call from behind the hazy mist. Before the very thought of reacting entered her mind, she felt her body being constricted by an unseen force. It grew tighter and more tenacious with every slow, yet rapid passing second. Her breath became hindered as she gasped to take in her needed supply. Ginevra mentally cursed him as his rigid body presented itself from behind the wall of vapor. He limped slightly, his robes slightly scorched at his cuffs.

He chuckled at the sight of her wound up body. "Do you think you're..." He paused for a moment, attempting to find the exact words.

"Clever?" She choked out.

"I was leaning more towards foolish." Draco smirked as he started to step towards her.

"I'm brilliant," She managed to peep. Her chest felt as if she had a truck load of bricks laid atop it. Every word was almost unmanageable, but somehow, she found enough strength to press out her words. His beautiful blue eyes traced over her bound figure. Ginevra could almost feel every thought running through his head. Every sick, sexual notion that corrupted his mind.

"Apparently not brilliant enough, am I correct?" He asked her, bringing his attention to her blood shot eyes that met his in an instant.

"I suppose not," She sarcastically replied. In all honesty, she didn't give a flying fuck what the man thought. She was more concerned with the idea of freeing herself at the moment. He drawled closer, his lurid finger finding it's way to her rosy cheek. It almost burned fire as he traced her stiff jaw.

"How does it feel?" He questioned her, watching his movements carefully. Those words stirred an uncountable feeling below her belt, but she dared not acknowledge her desire.

"How does what feel?" She retorted, watching his gaze carefully.

He met her eyes once more, with an alluring smirk on his lips. He came even closer to her, his breath against her ear.

"To be utterly, and completely helpless." He said with a gruff whisper. His motions moved from her jaw, following the course of her collarbone. Ginevra couldn't help but want his touch. Though somewhere inside, she knew this wasn't right, her retired morality had been washed away long ago. Her nipples seemed to scream for attention, yet falling upon deaf ears as his nail scratched her chest, right in between her awoken breasts.

She didn't say a word. He knew better than to assume she wasn't enjoying this, wanting his body against her own. She was usually one to give an argument. Now, in his grasps, she remained quiet, hypnotized, like a snake and his charmer. Oh, he would make her dance.

"Do you enjoy this?" He questioned her, his touch moving southward ever more. Her thoughts were jumbled like shattered glass. It was not that they hadn't committed the act before, but it always seemed to sinful to her. She didn't enjoy it, she was absolutely in love with it.

His hand found it's way into her robes, and all that she seemed to be furious with before some how vanished with his cold hands against her panty line. Her eyes closed, awaiting the sensation she'd been dreaming of since they first had been locked in this forsake house together. His fingertips found her, sliding inside her wetness and pressing against her throbbing clit.

"Mmm," She pushed her pelvis forward to meet his touch, though her movement still stifled from the spell.

Her knees fell weak, and she felt as if she couldn't support her weight anymore, but magically, she didn't collapse. He pressed his entire body upon her's now, the lust in his eyes flaming. She assumed, no, knew that the fact she was bound was a fantasy he'd been awaiting. She could admit to herself she'd thought about it before, but she would never admit it to him.

His motions were delicate, a touch Ginevra had never knew Draco possessed. He was soft, and teasingly modest with every stroke against her. He moved past her clit, exploring further as she felt him press inside her. She felt herself clenching her fists.

"Do you enjoy this?" He asked her again, pressing inside her further. She wasn't sure how she should reply. In all honesty, her thoughts were way beyond sense or the ability to process correctly.

"I bloody well love it," She softly admitted, truthfully.

"I know," He murmured, removing his hand from her and pressing his lips together in thought. His eyes darted to her robes, taking them in the front hem, and parting them their separate ways to gain further access to her body. Her knickers exposed as he pushed the fabric off her arms, letting it casually fall to the marble flooring.

He took his time. He wanted her body to plead for him. It was working.

Her bra was the first to go, as he pressed his chest against her small frame, raising his arms around her to undo her fragile snap. Without his hands leaving her body, they traveled down her admired curves, snagging her pale rose pantys with his fingertips, and pulling them slowly down her hips. He brought himself down as well, positioning himself upon his knees, his smug gaze fixated upon her wet lips.

She watched him intently, yet frustrated from anticipation.

Draco placed his tongue hauntingly soft upon her slit, leisurely tasting her as his flat tongue found her most sensitive area. Ginevra let out a small gasp of pleasure, instinctively attempting to part her legs to give him further access to no avail. His movements were like a wave, pressing against her finely. She was surprised with his subtle contact. Her arousal building with every sweep of his tongue. She wanted more, and just as she felt her body start to slip over the edge, her legs almost shaking, he backed off.

"Don't stop," She muttered under he stifled breath.

He stood to his feet, slipping his dark robes from his toned body. He was left in a par of silk boxers that she didn't catch the color of. She was too enthralled as he stepped closer to her, taking his palms to her jaw and pressing his damp lips against her trembling ones. His hard on was pressing against her abdomen. She could almost imagine his thrusts inside her. The worst of it was, she couldn't help the process along any faster. He was brutally teasing her.

She kissed him back, their tongues playing like a passionate wild fire. His thin lips were soft yet demanding. She tasted her own juices, just before he pulled away.

With a new found hast, he guided her body to the cold and uninviting floor. It felt like knives in her back but she couldn't even concentrate on the insanely chilled ground. She couldn't mind it, her thoughts too consumed with his next move.

She noticed his boxers were gona from his body, though she didn't notice him remove them. He parted her legs with his equally chilled hands. He could adjust her body, she could not. The weight on her chest seemed to fade as she focused on a completely different region of her body.

Draco placed himself in between her thighs, intently brushing his manhood against her. She didn't say a word, just watching and enjoying the moment they were in. She was forced to bit her lip as he refused to give her what she wanted, teasingly holding himself at her entrance but refusing her of what, she knew, they both equally wanted.

The floor seemed to become less uncomfortable, and she was able to relax. His hands positioned themselves above her shoulders as he brought his body against hers.

Her lips parted, almost as if to say something, but before her words were conjured, his thickness pressed inside of her. She inhaled rapidly.

"Oh.." She breathed through her teeth as he pushed himself further with another slow thrust.

--

The hurried wind brushed past her as she sat upon the mansions porch, throwing her long hair into a fit, and the smell of late spring dew grazing her nostrils. She pulled her hemmed robes closer around her chilled body and watched the still landscape. It was early morning, the sun's brilliant halo just creeping over the skyline of pines that laid planted throughout the estate. It made her nauseous.

It had been weeks since her and Draco had slept together, yet, somehow, she found that it was the only thing that polluted her thoughts. She couldn't take her mind off their activities. It had not happened since, and though she was not swayed toward being disgusted, or smitten, she like to entertain the idea of doing it again.

She remembered once when sex was intertwined with love. Love as an emotion, oh how it would be lovely to actually feel one of those again. The world was different now though. Emotions were weakness, and weakness was unforgivable.

She knew she should be worrying about other matters to say the least. The Order of the Phoenix, or what was left of it anyway, was growing strength once again. Their numbers dwindled after Ron's death, but news from tortured captives said they were sending out recruiters. She couldn't help but wonder who in their right mind who stand against Voldemort.

Didn't they know all hope of good was gone? There was only surviving. That was one of the reasons she had swayed toward her master. Then power created a cruelty. The more she grew to realize how much strength she held over her civilian public, the more the actions, that she once found inhuman and horrible, became enjoyable.. almost fun.

Her soft strands were pushed behind her ear as she stood to her feet, taking once last quick glance at the only beauty left in the world, before disappearing into the dark halls of Malfoy Manor.

* * *

"You look ill," Ginevra commented, stepping into the largest of the libraries located in the quarters. Vast shelves of decaying literature lay untouched upon the ebony structure. She spotted a pale and tempered Draco seating himself in a black leathered arm chair behind his dark curtains in the corner of the room. She decided to take the sofa beside him.

Taking a seat, she inquisitively added, "Maybe you should lay off the liquor for a few days and see if that doesn't do you any good," His eyes, focused upon a seemingly interested book, looked up to meet her gaze with his own glare.

"Sod off," He growled, taking his attention back to the jumbled words upon his page.

"I'm only trying to help you," She passively replied, pulling her bare legs upon the cold material. Dressed in only a long sweater that draped over her figure lamely, she folded her legs closer to her body for sweet warmth.

"You look quite disgusting yourself," He said quietly. She assumed he did not care if she heard or not. "Have you bothered with yourself lately? Already letting yourself go so early in life, Weasley. My god, you look like one of your brothers right now,"

"I rather look like a man, than a malnourished corpse," She shot back, though she couldn't help but notice the lack of passion in insulting her fellow death eater.

"If you'd shag a malnourished corpse, I'd hate to see what else you'd take a go at,"

"If you'd shag a brute, I'd hate to see who else you've had your homosexual way with," She retorted without a second's waste. He didn't even bother to look up or acknowledge her presence, never mind reply to her. "I hate you sometimes,"

"Sometimes?"

"Sometimes." She finally got his attention as he set his book to the side and pulled his body towards the edge of his seat.

"Fine Ginevra, you have my attention," He stopped to place his elbows upon his knees for support, the candles surrounding him playing their shadows upon his features beautifully, "What on bloody earth is it that you take it upon yourself to search me out and bother me?"

"I wanted company," She shrugged it off.

"But you hate me,"

"Sometimes," She agreed.

"And any other time?" He questioned, raising a suspicious eyebrow.

"I tolerate you," She stated bluntly, which caused him to chuckle slightly. She was slightly surprised, but in all honesty, it was sort of.. nice.

"I tolerate you too, pet," He smirked, as he traced his eyes down her bare, chilled legs. She mirrored his smirk, smacking the seat down beside her, inviting him to join her upon the sofa.

"I rather not," He stated, repositioning himself upon his armchair.

"Why not?" She cocked her head to the side. He shook his head, and without saying a word, trudged the few feet to sit beside her huddled frame. His body weight pressed into the uncomfortable sofa, while the thick atmosphere felt heavy upon her chest. The lights were dimly lit, as they usually were. He did not take a preference to blinding lamps in his house. She imagined that was why he was always so frail as a child.

She took it upon herself to lay her body back, gently resting her head in his lap and letting her locks of golden red hair fall aimlessly a crossed the cushion. She didn't object. She imagined he didn't mind. His iced fingers slithered their way towards her strands of hair, stroking them slightly and taking them into his palm to be toyed with.

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:)  
I struggle with if there's NOT ENOUGH detail or not. But I don't want to over-do it because then that's just frustrating to read. I think I finally found my place to where I'm going with this story though.


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